


Failed Attempts at Faking It

by EdosianOrchids901



Series: Plain Simple Prompts [23]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Claustrophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Holodecks/Holosuites, M/M, POV Elim Garak, POV First Person, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spy Holoprogram
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 00:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16006394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdosianOrchids901/pseuds/EdosianOrchids901
Summary: Dialogue prompt: “You… you never had a problem with it before.”





	Failed Attempts at Faking It

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a series of ficlets based on dialogue prompts from Tumblr. Written 3/18.

“Okay, you ready?” Julian asked, taking weapons from the henchmen we’d just knocked out. 

“Quite, yes.” I glanced towards the secret tunnel leading to the base. It looked… significantly smaller than it had the last time we’d played this program, and my chest tightened. Oh, come now, Garak. Don’t be ridiculous. This is supposed to be a pleasant excursion for Julian, not another reason for him to need to take care of you.

The doctor offered one of the guns to me. When I didn’t take it, he nudged me. “Garak?”

“Hmm? Oh, apologies.” I accepted it this time, flashing him a bright smile. 

“It’s okay.” He gave me a curious, slightly concerned look, but didn’t press me. “Should we go?”

“Yes, before more guards arrive.” I followed him into the tunnel, trying not to notice that my hands were shaking. Focus… it’s not the closet, it’s not Tzenketh, and it’s certainly not Internment Camp 371. It’s not even real – we’re in a holosuite. 

But the passage seemed to be closing in, and I became acutely aware of my own heartbeat. It pounded in my ears, threatening to drown out all else. A band of pressure wrapped around my chest, tightening the farther we went down the tunnel. 

“Julian,” I called, tone harsher than intended. Restless agitation surged through my body, building up into something resembling panicked rage.

He paused, turning to face me. “Elim?”

“I don’t want to play this program. I don’t like it. It’s stupid and childish, with a terrible plot and dull characters. It’s so pathetic.”

“You… you never had a problem with it before,” he answered, taken aback by my sharpness. Sudden realization dawned in his eyes, and he reached out to grasp my arm. “Is it making you claustrophobic?”

“Don’t touch me!” I struck his hand away and stumbled back, throat constricting. I had to get out of here, now. It was all moving in, the walls about to crush me. “Get back! This is idiotic, I can’t believe you talked me into playing this! What kind of an imbecile would enjoy something so utterly pointless?”

“Elim, it’s okay.” He took a cautious step towards me instead of back, and I lashed out. “Hey, it’s just me. Do you want me to deactivate the program?”

“No, I don’t want…” I struggled to take a breath, furious with myself for being so weak and for speaking to him like that. “I’m ruining your day, I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

I turned to go back – and the darkness of the passage tore into my neatly organized mind, shattering my hold on the present. 

An explosion, walls caving in, rubble crushing me, dust choking me…

“Garak!” 

I became faintly aware that I’d collapsed and was now in a huddle on the ground. Hands grasped me, turning me, lifting me up. 

“Elim! Elim, can you hear me?” 

Total darkness, twisting, crashing into the walls… Moving faster and faster, unable to turn, unable to get away…

“Elim, it’s me! It’s Julian!”

I managed to cease my thrashing, trying to focus on the arms around me. “Julian, I can’t…”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. Computer, reset program to scene three.”

Sudden brightness assailed me, and I tried to shield my eyes. “Bright.”

“Decrease light level.” Once the computer responded, Julian lowered my hand and cupped my cheek. “Elim, can you hear me?”

“I’m sorry.” I reeled, breathing harshly, still disoriented. It was so difficult to focus, to stay with him. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey now, none of that.” Lips pressed to my brow, and then he cradled me close to his chest, rocking slowly. “Everything’s okay now, I’m here. You’re not trapped, I promise. I’m gonna take care of you.”

My awareness began to return, and I nuzzled against him. “Beloved, you must accept my deepest apologies. My behavior was reprehensible.” 

“Shh, no. You were scared, that’s all.” He adjusted my position so he could see me, gently sifting hair away from my face. “It’s okay, I’m not upset.”

“You should be!” I was growing agitated again, ashamed of how I’d reacted. “I was dreadful to you. How dare I speak to you in such a manner? I even struck at you! You should be livid with me.”

“You were scared,” he repeated, as if that excused all of it. “And I’m the one who’s sorry – I should have realized this program was a bad idea. This was way too soon after the camp, and I know your claustrophobia is flaring up a lot. I shouldn’t have picked this one.”

“My dear, please don’t try to excuse my behavior.”

He heaved a sigh, absently stroking my hair. “I’m just not angry with you, okay? I wanna take care of you.”

I couldn’t very well argue with him without being an even worse partner than I already was. “Then I surrender to your care.”

Julian gave me a tight, worried smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Are you still with me? You’re looking a little dazed.”

“I admit to being somewhat disoriented.” I made an attempt to normalize my expression, but from the way he was looking at me, I suspected I was failing. “I am, however, firmly back in the present time.”

“God, you scared me.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and began to sponge away the sweat on my face, his touch careful and tender. “I hate seeing you so afraid, Elim.”

“Then I imagine recent weeks have been difficult for you.” I’d been plagued by panic attacks, nightmares, and flashbacks ever since returning from the internment camp. It was good to have Julian back with me – my Julian, not the imposter who had distanced himself from me for a month. I thought I’d lost my beloved doctor forever, and was overjoyed to be with him once again.

But I knew he was struggling too, trying to cope with the trauma of being a prisoner of war. And I felt dreadful for not being able to truly support him. That was the entire idea of this outing today – to encourage him to relax and have a good time. Some good time that turned out to be. 

“You know it’s been difficult,” he said, tone mildly chastising. 

“Apologies.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes. “I don’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s okay, Garak.” He shifted a bit, getting a better hold on me. “Come on, I wanna get you off the floor.”

“Ah.” I looked around as he helped me up, finally realizing where we were. He’d reset the program to take us to his flat. “This is rather less confining.”

“Yeah, and there’s drinks.” He seated me on the bed, and then grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. 

Once we’d both had a drink, he crouched down in front of me and pressed his hand to my cheek, examining me. “Do I check out, Doctor?” I asked with a slight smile. 

“More or less.” Taking a seat, he slipped an arm around my shoulders and drew me to his side. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I still feel rather guilty for ruining this. I’ve…” I hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “I’ve been wanting to do something nice for you, Julian. I know how much of a struggle it’s been, trying to go back to normal as if nothing had happened.”

“That’s sweet, love. Thanks.” He kissed my head. “You didn’t ruin anything, though. We’re still together, and we still have time.”

“It’s just that I… I may not have had quite the same experiences as you, but I have had unfortunate encounters with both solitary confinement and with being a prisoner. It takes a toll, I know. And…” I fumbled for words again, still uncomfortable with such straightforward, emotional conversation. “I want you to feel as though you can confide in me. I’m not expecting you to simply bounce back to normal right away. I know it takes time, and I want to help however I can.”

He pulled back a bit, turning to meet my gaze. To my alarm, his eyes were misty. But then he embraced me, burying his face against my neck. “Thank you, Elim,” he whispered. “That means a lot to me.”

Closing my eyes, I tightened my hold and began to hum to him. We might both be struggling to cope, but we would fight it together.


End file.
